


Ultraviolence

by polarizedmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Agression, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bc he is a smol anger ball, Bottom Luke, Child Neglect, Drug Use, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Gun Violence, Luke gets angry a lot, M/M, Michael and luke are in a gang, Michael is a lil sarcastic shit, Swearing, There is a lot of fighting, Top Michael, broken home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarizedmichael/pseuds/polarizedmichael
Summary: Michael and Luke are involved in some bad things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting my work on ao3, i usually post on wattpad but i thought id put it on here as well :) if you want to find my works on wattpad, my name is polarizedmichael

The window of Michael's black pickup truck was shattered into pieces just as a loud gunshot was heard.

"Get down!" He ducked his head down quickly before reaching for his gun and switching the safety off.

"Where the fuck did that shot come from?"

"I don't know," Max, Michael's fellow gang member said in a hushed tone, also getting his gun. He slowly opened the door and slipped out of the passenger side of the truck, gesturing for Michael to follow him.

He climbed over to the the centre console, making sure he was still hidden from whoever shot at them, and quietly slipped out of the truck.

He leaned against the side of the truck next to Max and listened for any noises. When he heard nothing, he carefully peeked over the truck, not seeing any sign of movement whatsoever.

"I think it's clear," he said to Max, who still held his gun, ready to shoot at any time.

Max stood up as well, looking around one last time before putting his gun away. "Probably a drive by. Stupid motherfuckers."

Michael put his gun back into its place in the waistband of his black skinny jeans before getting back into the driver's seat and starting the truck.

"Get in," he told Max. "We still got some business to take care of."

Max got into the truck, slamming the door shut and letting out an annoyed huff.

"Dude, calm down," Michael sighed, glancing at Max and then back to the road.

"I know, I know, it's just, I fucking hate those assholes. We weren't looking for any trouble," Max rolled his eyes as he reached for his cigarette packet in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Well, we are kind of in their territory," Michael shrugged.

"We're just passing through, goddammit. Do they always have to make such a big deal out of it?" Max lit his cigarette before holding the packet out to Michael, silently asking if he wanted one.

Michael took a cigarette of his own and placed it between his lips.

"Lighter," He spoke with the white stick still between his teeth. Max held out his lighter for Michael, who took it and lit the tip before tossing it back to the dirty blond.

"So, who's this guy we're meeting, anyway?" Max questioned.

The two lads were on their way to an old warehouse where they were supposed to meet some guy to make a deal.

"Dunno. Damon said we just give him the stuff and he'll give us the money. Easy."

Max nodded, not saying anything else for the rest of the ride.

When they arrived at the warehouse, Michael spotted another car parked in front of the old building.

"Looks like we're a little late," Michael joked as he pulled up the handbrake and jumped out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He told Max to bring the bag as he walked up to the warehouse with Max not too far behind him.

As soon as they entered the warehouse, Michael's eyes landed on three guys. He walked up to them slowly, holding his hand on his gun, ready to draw it at any moment.

He looked at the three guys with narrowed eyes. "Damon said there would only be one of you."

"I thought I'd bring some backup, just incase the two of you decide to get a little too smart," one of them spoke up, eyeing Michael up and down.

Michael grinned at them, looking at Max, who stood next to him and then back at them.

"Alright," he chuckled. "Fair enough."

"Enough small talk," another one said harshly, taking a step forward. "Where's the stuff."

Michael only shook his head slowly. "Oh, no, not so fast. Let's see the money first, tough guy."

The man glared at Michael for a few seconds before looking back to the other two guys.

"Alright, let's just get this over with. I got somewhere to be," he said, taking out a wad of cash and tossing it over to Michael.

He caught the money with both bands before taking the bag from Max.

"Here," he held the cash for Max to take so that he could count it and make sure it's real money.

Michael unzipped the black rucksack and grabbed the translucent plastic bag filled with the white powdery substance and gave it to the tall muscular man in front of him.

"There you go, enjoy," Michael smirked. "Let's go," he looked at Max. Max nodded and stuck the money in his pocket. The two walked out of the warehouse.

"That went surprisingly smooth, judging by the death glares we got when we walked in there," Max chuckled as they got into the black pickup truck.

"Right?" Michael agreed, also chuckling slightly.

In less than 10 minutes, they were pulling into Damon's driveway. Damon was like their "leader", if you wanted to call it that. He was the one who called the shots and if someone dare disobey him, there would be big trouble.

Michael and Max walked up to the huge house and nodded at the two guards who stood at the front door. One of the guards opened the door for them, allowing them to enter.

They made their way to Damon's office, and Michael knocked on the door, hearing a muffled " _come in_ ". They walked inside, seeing Damon sitting at his desk with some paperwork. He looked up from his work and greeted them with a nod. Max handed him the money and took a step back, folding his arms over his chest.

"Nice job, you two," Damon said, counting the cash and putting it away. "How'd it go? Good, I presume?"

"There were _three_ guys, not just one, but other than that, no problems," Michael spoke.

"Good, good. Well, there's nothing to do for now so you can just have the rest of the day off to do whatever you want," Damon said, leaning back on his chair. "Just stay out of trouble. Oh, and Michael, before you go, I'd like to speak to you."

Max left the room and Michael shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Damon to say something.

"So, there's gonna be a new guy coming in," he told Michael.

"You mean, like joining us?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah, Luke Hemmings. He's still pretty young - 18, I think.I want you to show him around and help him settle in nicely, make sure he can be trusted and all, y'know?"

Michael nodded his head. "Sure. No problem."

"You can take him around town and show him the ropes, make him understand who is who. I'm pretty sure he mentioned something about knowing how to work a gun, but I'd like for you to take him to the shooting range anyway just to make sure he knows what he's doing."

"I'll make sure he's settled in by the end of the week," Michael assured Damon.

"Thanks, Mike. I know I can always count on ya," Damon smiled. "He's coming here tomorrow so I can lay down the rules and everything, so just come over tomorrow around 10 a.m. to meet him."

"Will do," Michael said, and with that, he left the room to go home to his apartment and get some well deserved rest for the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael arrived at Damon's place at about 10:30 the next morning, parking his truck in its usual spot right under a big tree not far from the house.

As he got out, he noticed a guy standing by the front door, talking to the guards. It looked like he was arguing with them, but Michael couldn't be sure.

Michael walked up to the front door, and as he got closer, he observed the blonde haired guy speaking to the guards in a harsh tone. When he got close enough, he could hear his frustrated voice.

"Look, I'm telling you, Damon told me to come here today! Just let me in, goddammit!"

"Mr. Tyson didn't notify us about any visitors," one of the guards spoke, unfazed by the guy's rude behaviour.

"Oh my _god_ ," the guy laughed humorlessly, the frustration clear in his voice as well as his body language. "Fuck you," he spat. "I'll make sure to let Damon know-"

"Excuse me," Michael interrupted the angry boy, causing him to look at Michael. "You're Luke?"

"Yeah, I am," he said defensively, glaring at Michael. "Who are you?" He scoffed.

"Michael," Michael smirked at Luke, before turning to the guards. "He's cool. He'll come with me."

The guards nodded and opened the doors.

"Come on," he told Luke. He led him through the large house and stopped once they reached Damon's office. Michael opened the door and gestured for Luke to follow him. Michael walked inside with Luke behind him.

"Hello, Michael," Damon said. His eyes landed on Luke and he raised his eyebrows. "Who's this?"

"Luke," Luke spoke up before Michael had the chance to. 

"Oh, you're Luke?" Damon said. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, next time you invite me over to your house make sure to tell your stupid security guards I'm coming," Luke scoffed. Michael watched Luke with raised eyebrows.

Damon looked at Luke with hard eyes. "Excuse me?"

Luke sighed loudly. "I _said_ , next time-"

"Shut up," Michael snapped at Luke, making the blond turn to look at Michael.

"Oh? And who the fuck are you to tell me what I should do?" He spat, taking a step towards Michael.

Michael glared at him, and took a step forward as well, looking Luke in the eye. "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up."

Luke glared at Michael for a few moments before rolling his eyes and turning back to Damon.

"Michael, leave us," Damon spoke, keeping his eyes on Luke.

Michael obeyed, quickly exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Luke stepped out. He looked at Michael before speaking.

"Damon said you'd show me 'round," Luke simply said, his bad mood seemingly gone.

"Yeah, you got a gun?" Michael questioned.

"No, Damon said you would-"

"Right. Follow me," Michael said and walked towards the stairs leading to the basement. He turned on the light switch and walked down the flight of stairs.

The basement was basically like the weapon arsenal, where all the guns, ammunition and other things were stored.

Luke's eyes went wide as he observed the room. Several guns, from pistols, to machine guns, to sniper rifles were displayed on racks on the walls, as well as in display cases, and there were a bunch of crates which held ammunition.

"Wow," Luke said, still in awe. "That's a lot of guns."

"Sure is, blondie," Michael smirked at Luke.

Luke glared at Michael as he clenched his jaw slightly. "Don't call me that."

Michael held his hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry," he chuckled.

Luke rolled his eyes at Michael. "Just get me a gun, jesus christ."

"Alright, alright, don't get feisty," Michael said as he walked over to a display case and punched in a code on the small keypad. There was a small beeping sound and the case door slid open smoothly.

Michael grabbed a pistol from the rack and closed it, the case locking itself automatically.

"Here you go," he said as he held the gun out for Luke to take.

Luke took the gun from Michael and put it in the waistband of his jeans.

"Let's go," Michael said.

-

"Okay, so this is where Jaxon's people hang around. They're quite agressive when it comes to territory and all that shit," Michael explained as he drove through the streets of a neighbourhood not far from Michael's apartment building.

"What do you mean by agressive?" Luke enquired, looking out the window every now and then.

"I mean, the other day we were just passing through and they shot at us," Michael chuckled. "Crazy bastards. You can't trust 'em either, let me tell you. They're like little foxes. So you gotta watch out for them."

"Okay..." Luke frowned. "How do I watch out for them if I don't know what they look like?"

"You'll learn."

"Okay," Luke repeated his previous sentence.

"So, what do you say we get back to Damon's house and go in the back where the shooting range is?" Michael looked over at Luke with one eyebrow raised.

"Uh, sure?" Luke said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Good, because I'm surprised we haven't been ambushed yet," Michael said, taking a right turn. Luke stayed silent.

"So," Michael spoke after a few minutes of silence. "You said you're pretty good with a gun, yeah?"

Luke shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, we're about to find out just how good you are," Michael said just as they pulled into the driveway of Damon's house.

"C'mon," he said to Luke as he got out of his truck. Luke followed him as he walked past the house and to the back. He walked into what looked like a garage, but as soon as they entered the room, Luke recognized it to be the shooting range Michael was speaking of.

"Stand over there, and aim for those things," Michael pointed to the targets which all stood at different distances.

"I know," Luke rolled his eyes as he walked over to where Michael pointed. "I'm not stupid."

"Alright then, big boy. Get your gun out and show me what you're made of," Michael smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

Luke hesitantly drew his gun and switched off 'safety' mode. He loaded the gun and held it steadily in front of him as he got into a comfortable stance before pulling the trigger, the bullet hitting the target right in the head.

"Impressive," Michael nodded. "Go again."

Luke took a few more shots at the targets. He was quite satisfied with himself, seeing as he hit most of the targets in the head.

"Great job," Michael smiled, and Luke swore it was the first time Michael smiled genuinely at him, not some sarcastic smirk.

"Thanks."

"I think that's enough for today," Michael said. "You can go home now, or hang around here.  Do whatever you want. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya," Luke said and watched as the platinum haired boy strode out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael was casually strolling down the sidewalk while smoking a cigarette. It was a nice sunny day and he didn't have any instructions from Damon so he decided to spend his day just walking around the central city.

He wore his usual black skinny jeans and combat boots, and his signature leather jacket, which concealed his gun.

Michael spotted a bar on the corner of the sidewalk, and decided to go in and have a few drinks. He hadn't treated himself to something nice in quite a while.

Michael pushed the dark wooden door open and entered the dimly lit pub, although he instantly regretted going in there when seeing Hunter Jackson at the pool table, playing a game of pool with some random biker.

Michael decided to ignore him, walking up to the bar and sitting down on one of the stools.

He pulled his wallet out and retrieved a dollar, placing it on the counter in front of the bartender. "One beer, please."

The bartender nodded and turned around, taking a beer out of the fridge behind him and taking the top off with a bottle opener, placing it down in front of Michael.

"Thanks," Michael said as he took a sip.

Michael took his phone out and replied to a few messages while drinking his beer.

He heard footsteps behind him and soon enough, there was a guy sitting down right next to him. Michael sighed.

"What do you want, Hunter," he spoke as he took a sip of his beer.

"Nothing, just saying hi," Hunter's deep voice was disturbingly calm.

"Listen, I'm not looking for trouble," Michael said as he looked up at the black haired man. "Alright? So fuck off."

Hunter faked a gasp. "So rude."

Michael clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath. "Listen, man, I'm just here to have a few beers."

"Oh yeah? And how's that going for you?" Hunter said, his voice holding a mocking tone.

Michael glared at Hunter with cold eyes. "If you're looking for a fight, you're gonna fucking get it, asshole," he said in a hushed tone. He didn't want to cause a scene, but Hunter was slowly driving him to it.

"I'm always looking for a fight," Hunter smiled sweetly.

"Oh yeah?" Michael smiled back, and Hunter nodded. "Well then in that case."

Michael harshly grabbed Hunter by his hair at the back of his head and slammed his face into the counter with great force. He stood up, walking towards the exit. He could feel the stares of the other people in the pub, but he didn't care.

Just as he got to the door, he was pulled back by the collar of his jacket and pushed against a wall. Michael hissed at the pain shooting up his spine from the collision.

Before Michael knew what was happening, a fist was rammed into his jaw, and then his left eye.

Michael gritted his teeth, and with all his energy, he pushed the large man off of him and turned them around, so that Michael was now the one holding Hunter against the wall. He pulled his gun out, holding it against the underside of Hunter's jaw.

"Now you listen here, you fucking piece of shit," Michael said through heavy breaths. "Don't fucking mess with me, because I will kill you right here, you hear me?"

Hunter simply glared at him with angry eyes, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy, just like Michael's.

"I said, did you hear me?" Michael snapped, a little louder this time.

Hunter scoffed at him, "Fuck you."

Michael gritted his teeth before taking his gun and hitting Hunter in the head with the back of it, making his whole body go limp as he fell onto the ground, completely out cold.

Michael stepped away from Hunter, looking behind him to see the whole pub looking at him, still.

Michael smirked at them, putting his gun away and fixing his jacket, before leaving the pub.

-

Michael walked into Damon's office and stood in front of the desk with his hands buried inside his pockets.

"You had a job for me?" He enquired.

"Yes, there are some supplies that need to be picked up," Damon said. "I think it's a good idea to take Luke with you."

"Alright, sure," Michael told him.

"You got his number, right?"

Michael nodded.

"Great, just have him send you his address and pick him up."

"Okay, will do," Michael pursed his lips. "What is it we need to pick up? And where?"

"Just some drugs, nothing special," Damon shrugged. "Here's the location."

Damon grabbed a nearby pen and messily scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and slid it towards Michael. "I trust you will take care of any problems that occur."

"You know I will," Michael told Damon. "I'll get going now."

Michael made his way out of the house and to his truck, hopping in and starting the engine. He texted Luke, and within a few moments Luke replied with his home address. Michael put the address into his phone's GPS and started the short drive to Luke's house.

-

Michael looked out of the broken window of his truck as he drove through Luke's neighbourhood.

It was obvious that Luke did not live in a good neighborhood. The streets had potholes in them, and it was littered with trash. There were children playing with a deflated soccer ball in the street Michael had just passed, and the houses looked miserable, old and weary.

Michael stopped his truck in front of Luke's house, frowning at the sight.

He observed the house while he waited for Luke. It was a small, run-down house. The paint was chipping off the walls and the fence around it was broken down. The small bits of grass at the front looked hard and dead, and there was an old, rusty car parked in the driveway in front of the garage door.

Michael felt his heart ache slightly, because even though he wouldn't admit it, he felt kind of bad for Luke, seeing the type of house he had to live in.

There was faint yelling coming from inside the house, but Michael chose to ignore it. The front door suddenly flew open, and Luke stood in the doorway with his back to Michael.

"Yeah, well I don't give a fuck!" He yelled to someone inside the house before turning around and storming outside, slamming the wooden door behind him.

He stomped towards Michael's truck, ripping the passenger door open and getting in.

Michael stared at Luke for a few seconds, wondering if he should say something.

Luke's head snapped towards Michael, and he eyed Michael up and down before rudely asking, "What? Are we just going to sit here?"

Michael sighed, turning away from Luke and inserting the keys into the ignition, driving off.


	4. Chapter 4

"I am so glad that's over," Michael sighed out in relief as him and Luke got into his truck.

They had just picked up the supplies from one of Damon's providers. Michael hated this part of his job, because it honestly just bored him to death. It was just a bunch of fancy talking and paperwork.

"Yeah," Luke said, chewing at one of his fingernails as he gazed out of the window in thought.

Michael cleared his throat. "So, do you want me to go drop you off at your house?"

"No," Luke said quickly, looking at Michael. "I don't want to go home. I'm not in the mood for my mom and her boyfriend. All they do is bitch about everything."

"Okay... where do you want me to take you then?" Michael asked, raising one eyebrow at Luke.

"Can't I just hang with you for the rest of the day?" Luke asked, avoiding eye contact with Michael.

"Well, I mean," Michael thought about it for a few seconds before shrugging. "I guess so."

Luke smiled at Michael. It was small, barely even a smile, but Michael noticed it, and smiled back.

"So, what do you wanna do?" He asked after a while.

"I don't know," Luke said. "I'm kinda hungry. I didn't have anything for breakfast."

"Do you wanna grab something to eat? We can go sit in McDonald's if you want," Michael suggested.

"Okay," Luke nodded. "Let's do that."

They drove to the fast food restaurant in silence. When they arrived, Michael parked in front of the building and killed the engine. "Let's go," he said as he hopped out of his truck. Luke followed him into the restaurant and they stood in the line — thankfully it wasn't busy.

"Have you thought about what you want?" Michael looked over at Luke.

"I'll just have whatever you're getting."

"Next," the cashier called and Michael and Luke walked up to the register.

"Two Big Mac meals, please," Michael smiled at the cashier.

She typed the order into the computer before looking up at Michael with a slightly bored expression. "That'll be eleven dollars and ninety-eight cents."

"One sec," Michael took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, handing it over to the cashier. She gave him the change along with the receipt and they went to a table to wait for their food.

After a few minutes, their order number was called out and Michael went up and collected the tray. They sat at a table in the corner, eating their food in silence.

"So, do you mind if I ask, what happened this morning when I came to pick you up?" Michael spoke carefully. He didn't want to anger the blond.

"What do you care, anyway?" Luke said defensively, as he stuck a fry in his mouth. "I just got in a fight with my mom and her boyfriend. No big deal."

"It didn't look like 'no big deal'," Michael pressed. "You seemed pretty upset."

Luke sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "It's not important."

Michael decided to back off. He could see Luke didn't want to talk about it, so he stopped pestering him.

"How old were you when you joined Damon and his people?" Luke questioned after a while.

"About 17, I think? I don't remember the exact date," Michael said. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Luke told him. "Why did you do it?"

"I didn't feel like I really had a future," Michael shrugged. "My parents never cared about my grades or what I wanted to do once I was out of school. I figured if I can't go study then I wouldn't make it. So long story short, I found out about Damon and what he does, and I just said fuck it, you know?"

"Yeah," Luke said slowly, looking down at his half eaten burger.

"And you?" Michael piped up.

"Hm?" Luke looked up at the platinum blond.

"Why did you?" Michael asked, taking a sip of his soda.

"I don't know, I just feel like it's the only thing I'm good at," Luke said quietly. "Being good at being bad."

Michael nodded, glancing at him. Luke didn't let people walk over him easily, and whenever he had something he wanted to say, he'd say it. Michael liked that about Luke.

"You know, you're actually really cool," Michael grinned at Luke.

Luke shook his head slightly, chuckling. "That's real funny, Michael."

Michael frowned at Luke. "I'm serious. You're not as bad as you make yourself seem."

"Thanks," Luke looked at Michael. "You're cool, too."


	5. Chapter 5

Luke was currently in Michael's black pickup truck. Michael sat in the driver's seat, one of his hands holding the side of the steering wheel and the other arm resting on the window, which still hadn't been fixed from when him and Max got shot at, a few days ago.

"So, where does Logan live?" Luke questioned, looking out the window absentmindedly.

They were supposed to meet up with Logan, whom Luke hadn't even met. From what Michael told him, Logan sounded like a cool guy.

"Not far, we're almost there," Michael said nonchalantly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Luke said nothing. Instead, he continued gazing out of the window, observing the neighborhood they were driving through.

After about five minutes, the truck came to a halt in front of a small, but cozy looking house.

"We're here," Michael announced.

The duo walked up to the front door, and Michael rang the doorbell. A few seconds later the door swung open, revealing a guy who Luke assumed was Logan.

He was asian, with dark brown eyes, and his hair was dyed a silvery blonde colour. He looked young, probably still under 20, but he wasn't as tall as Luke.

"Mike," Logan greeted Michael, giving him one of those typical "bro hugs". Luke stood awkwardly by Michael's side.

"This is Luke," Michael said. He looked at Luke. "Luke, this is Logan."

"Oh, so you're Luke," Logan said, eyeing Luke up and down. "You don't look at all like what I imagined."

Luke scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the asian boy.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're quite the feisty one, aren't you?" Logan chuckled sarcastically. "Michael did say you were a little aggressive, though, so I guess he was right."

"Fuck you," Luke spat, still glaring at Logan.

Logan simply ignored Luke and turned to look back at Michael. "Wanna come inside?"

"Sure," Michael shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets. He gestured for Luke to follow as he stepped into the house.

"Where's Eric?" Michael questioned.

"At work," Logan told Mike as he plopped down on one of the couches in the small living room. Michael sat down next to him on the two seater.

Luke sat down on the other couch. "Who's Eric?" He asked.

"Why do you wanna know?" Logan said coldly, staring at Luke.

"I was just fucking asking, jesus christ," Luke snapped. 

"Eric's his older brother," Michael told Luke. "They live together here."

"You live with your brother?" Luke scoffed. "Why? 'Cause you can't afford your own place?"

Logan slowly stood up and walked closer to Luke, causing the blond to stand up as well.

"What? What're you gonna do, huh?" Luke said harshly. Michael watched the scene slowly unfold in front of him, his eyes darting from the one boy to the other, almost as if he was watching a tennis match.

"Don't test me, asshole," Logan warned.

"Or what?" Luke challenged.

In a matter of seconds, Logan had Luke by the front of his shirt, and was pinning him to the wall.

"Or I'm gonna fucking hurt you," Logan said lowly. His face was merely inches away from Luke's.

Luke's face was red with anger. He shoved Logan, making him stumble backwards. He quickly regained his balance, though, and before Luke could even step away from the wall, Logan's fist landed right under his left eye.

Luke brought a hand up to his injured cheekbone, rubbing at the sore spot. "What the fuck? You asshole!"

" _I'm_ not an asshole," Logan said harshly, glaring at Luke. "You're just a fucking brat, and you need to drop _your_ asshole act, because it's not gonna sit well with Damon, or any of the others, for that matter."

"You're a fucking shithead," Luke said as he walked past Logan, making sure to shoulder him as he passed by him.

Luke sat down on his previous spot, his face expression and body language radiating anger and frustration.

"Can we just get this stupid mission, or whatever you want to call it, over with? I want to go home," Luke said harshly. His cheek was bright red where Logan had punched him, and he knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise.

"Couldn't agree more," Logan smirked at Luke. "I don't wanna have to be around this asshole longer than I need to be."

Michael chuckled slightly, slowly arising from his comfortable position on the couch. "Alright, alright. We'll go. Don't bite each other's heads off, now."

"Fuck you, Michael," Luke rolled his eyes.

Michael simply winked at Luke before walking out of the room.

"Let's fucking do this, boys."


	6. Chapter 6

"Wow, your face looks like shit."

Those were the first words Michael said to Luke as soon as he got into Michael's truck.

Luke sighed. "Thanks, asshole."

Michael stared at Luke's purple and slightly swollen cheekbone. "Logan got you good," he snickered.

"Yeah, okay," Luke said irritably. "I get it. Can we just fucking drive?"

"Okay, jeez. Don't get your panties in a twist," Michael teased.

Luke rolled his eyes, turning away from Michael and looking out the window.

"Why are you so cranky, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter," Luke muttered.

"Okay then," Michael shrugged. They were silent for the rest of the ride, the only sound being the soft background music playing on the radio.

They arrived at Damon's house, and when they got to the office, Michael knocked on the door. Damon called out that he was busy, so they had to wait outside.

Michael leaned against the wall, playing around on his phone while Luke stood with his hands in the pockets of his black skinny jeans.

"Sorry for being so rude to you in the car," Luke said suddenly.

Michael raised his eyebrows as he smirked mischievously at the blond. "Luke Hemmings? Apologizing? Oh my god, who are you and what have you done to Luke?"

Luke scoffed at Michael. "Ha ha. Very funny, but I'm serious."

"Apology accepted," Michael said, and when he saw a small smile appear on Luke's face, he couldn't help but to smile as well.

"Thanks. I just wasn't having a spectacular morning, is all," Luke explained.

"It's fine, really Luke," Michael assured him.

"So, I wanted to ask you-"

Luke was interrupted by the door opening and a tall man walking out, not even acknowledging the two if them.

"Well, I guess we can go in now," Michael shrugged, walking inside with Luke following closely behind him.

"Morning, boys," Damon greeted the duo. His eyes landed on Luke, or more specifically, the big purple bruise on his cheek, and he sighed.

"Do I even want to know?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Luke.

"Uhm, Logan and I just had a little disagreement," Luke spoke.

"Alright, well I won't ask for details. Frankly, I don't really care," Damon said as he stood up and walked to a set of drawers in the corner of the room, unlocking the second drawer and taking out a bag of what looked like weed.

He handed it to Michael before sitting back down at his desk. "You know the drill, Michael. Luke will come with you so he can see how these type of things are done. Here's the location."

He handed Luke a piece of paper and shooed them out.

They left the house and got into Michael's truck.

"Let me see the address," Michael said, holding his hand out. Luke handed him the small piece of paper and Michael read it, frowning afterwards.

"I have no idea where this is," he said slowly. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and handed it to Luke along with the address.

Luke stared at Michael with a confused look on his face.

"Put the address into the GPS," Michael explained.

"Oh, right," Luke said.

While Luke was busy typing the address in, Michael took out a cigarette and placed the white stick between his lips, lighting the tip.

He offered one to Luke, who just looked at the cigarette and then up at Michael.

"Uh, I don't really smoke," he said, handing the phone back to Michael.

"Alright, suit yourrself," Michael put the packet away before stepping down on the pedal, the truck speeding up as he followed the instructions of the GPS to their destination.

-

The deal went, for a lack of a better word, _horrible_.

Michael and Luke were in his truck, an awkward silence between them as they drove back to Damon's house.

Michael was mad. More specifically, he was mad at Luke.

Everything would've gone according to plan, but then Luke went ahead and made the other guys angry by doing what he does best: causing a scene.

There were four of them, which meant Michael and Luke were slightly outnumbered. Long story short, they held both of them at gunpoint and forced Michael to give them the drugs or else they'd blow their brains out.

Michael valued his life, so of course he did the sensible thing and gave them the drugs. After they were stripped of their weapons, they were allowed to leave, which they did without hesitation.

Michael hadn't said a word to Luke since, which was quite worrying. Michael always had something to say.

They arrived at Damon's house and Michael parked the truck on its usual spot. He got out of the truck, slamming the door shut and walking towards the front door.

Luke followed behind him, not saying a word as they entered the house and went to Damon's office.

"I'll go in, you wait here," Michael mumbled, not even looking at the younger boy.

"Okay," Luke nodded.

-

As soon as Damon saw the look on Michael's face, he knew something was wrong.

"Where's the money?"

"I didn't... they didn't give it," Michael said.

"What do you mean, they didn't give it? Where's the package, then?" Damon asked, his voice harsh.

"They took it."

"And you allowed them to?" Damon questioned angrily.

"They were holding us at gunpoint, we couldn't really do anything about it," Michael explained, trying to keep his voice calm. "We were outnumbered."

Damon got up from his chair and walked around the desk, standing in front of Michael.

"I expect better from you, Michael," he said, glaring at him with those cold eyes of his.

"I know."

Michael shut his eyes when he felt Damon's flat hand come in contact with his face. He held his composure, trying not to wince at the pain.

"Leave," Damon spat before walking back to his desk.

Michael quickly spun around and left the room.

"Let's go," Michael said to Luke as he walked past him.

"What happened?" Luke asked, walking quickly to match Michael's pace.

"It doesn't matter, Luke," Michael kept walking. "I'm taking you home."

Michael walked out the front door, not even bothering to greet the guards.

When they reached Michael's truck, he retrieved the keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and unlocked the truck.

When they were both in, he jammed the keys into the ignition and roughly pulled out of the parking spot.

"I don't want to go to my house," Luke said.

"I don't care, Luke. I'm taking you home."

"I don't want to."

"Listen up, I said I'm taking you home," Michael snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "If you keep on whining, you can fucking walk, got it?"

Luke sighed. "Fine."

After a few moments of silence, Luke spoke up again.

"Why are you mad at me?"

"Oh, please. Don't act stupid," Michael laughed humourlessly.

"I'm sorry," Luke said. "I didn't mean for things to turn out the way it did."

"Yeah well it's too late for that!"

"Calm down, Michael," Luke said quietly.

"No, you're the reason this all happened. You and your fucking attitude," he seethed.

"I said I'm sorry," Luke said loudly.

"Just shut up, Luke. I don't want to talk to you right now."

Luke decided to do as Michael said, and shut his mouth. Michael was obviously really angry with him at the moment and he didn't want to worsen the situation.

When the truck stopped in front of Luke's house, Luke got out without saying a word, and walked up to his house.

When he reached the front door he turned around, watching as Michael's truck sped away from his house down the street.


	7. Chapter 7

Luke was awoken by yelling coming from somewhere in the house. He sighed, bringing his hands up to tiredly rub at his eyes.

He sat up in his bed, the blankets pooling around his waist. He stretched his limbs out and pulled the blankets away from his body, getting up and trudging down the hall and into the bathroom.

He stared at his reflection in the slightly dirty mirror. The bruise on his cheekbone looked even worse today. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair before turning around leaving the bathroom.

Entering the small kitchen and ignoring the yelling and cussing coming from the next room, he made himself a cup of coffee.

He sat down by the kitchen table and drank his coffee, letting his thoughts wander. He remembered his argument with Michael the previous day. Was Michael still mad at him? Probably. He seemed pretty pissed at Luke.

The yelling gradually got louder, until Luke heard heavy footsteps nearing the kitchen. In came his mother, followed by her boyfriend who was living with them.

"I want you out of this house by tonight!" His mother yelled. She didn't even seem to care that her son was in the room.

"Oh please, you won't survive without me!"

Luke sighed, leaving his half empty cup of coffee on the table and arising from the chair, walking out of the kitchen. Their loud voices could still be heard throughout the whole house.

He walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He drearily pulled his clothes off and stepped into the shower.

After a few minutes of waiting for the water to warm up, Luke realized the water probably wasn't going to warm up.

So Luke showered in a weak stream of icy cold water. But he didn't mind. He was used to cold showers.

Luke stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and walking down the hall and into his room.

He got dressed quickly before taking his fingers through his hair, making himself look at least somewhat presentable. Grabbing his phone and a jacket, since it was quite chilly outside, he left the house.

He walked around the neighbourhood aimlessly, admiring his surroundings and enjoying the fresh air.

When Luke returned home, nobody was there. His mother and her stupid asshole boyfriend probably made up and went to some pub or casino.

Luke sighed. Even though he enjoyed the peacefulness of the empty house, he felt lonely. He decided he would try and talk to Michael. He got his phone out and texted him.

Luke: hey

Luke locked his phone and waited for a reply. But it never came. A few minutes later he opened the conversation and saw that Michael had read the message.

Luke felt stupid for even thinking that Michael would talk to him. Obviously he wouldn't. He let out a huff as he locked his phone again and tossed it somewhere on his bed.

His stomach grumbled, so he made his way to the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients for the peanut butter sandwich he was about to make.

He retrieved two slices of bread from the package, but tossed it right into the trash when he saw that it was stale and moldy.

He sighed as he rummaged through the cupboards in search of something else to eat. There was nearly no food in the house. Luke made a mental note to visit the stores some time.

Finally, after a few minutes of digging through the cupboards, he found a can of baked beans that wasn't past the expiration date yet.

He sat down at the kitchen table and ate the beans straight out of the can with a spoon. He never really liked baked beans, but it was better than no food.

When Luke was finished, he put the spoon in the sink and tossed the can into the trash.

Luke spent the rest of his day cleaning the house up and sleeping.


	8. Chapter 8

Luke nervously walked with one of his hands in the pocket of his jeans and the other holding a black duffel bag full of drugs on his back. He was currently on his way to do a deal with someone, and to say he was extremely anxious would be a huge understatement.

When Damon asked Luke to do the deal, he was a little hesitant at first, seeing as he had to do it on his own, and all. But he decided to do it anyway; it is his job after all.

Luke reached the destination that Damon told him to go, and walked up to the large, abandoned buidling.

He chewed nervously on his bottom lip as he entered the building. He walked into the first room, looking around him before moving on to the next room. Where were these guys? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and chekced the time. He wasn't early, so where were they?

"Hey, over here," a deep voice called, the sound echoing though the building.

Luke jumped, swinging around to face the direction where the voice came from. His eyes settled on three guys walking closer to him.

They were quite muscular and tall, with tattoos littering their arms and necks. One of them wore a red bandana around his head with a black leather jacket and another wore a sleeveless denim jacket, showing off his large biceps.

"Uhm, hello," Luke said, walking closer to them.

The three men shared a look, before one of them spoke up.

"You Damon's boy?" He asked, eyeing Luke threateningly.

"Yeah," Luke said, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He shouldn't have come here alone. He should not have come here alone. He gulped, trying his best not to look intimidated.

One of them chuckled, taking a step closer to the blond.

"Where's the stuff, hm?"

"In the bag," Luke said, glaring at the man. "Where's the money?"

The man took another step closer, causing Luke to take a step back.

"You and I both know you ain't getting the money," he said lowly. "Why don't you just give us what you got in that bag of yours?"

Luke could feel his heartbeat quickening. "I-I will, once you give me the money," he said, and internally cursed at himself for stuttering.

"I don't think so," one of the others chuckled. He walked towards Luke and grabbed him by his shirt.

"Now, are you gonna give us the stuff, or are we gonna have to do this the hard way?" He said, his face merely inches away from Luke's.

Luke pushed the large man off of him, reaching for his gun, but before he could pull it out, the guy's fist collided with Luke's jaw, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor.

"I guess it's gonna have to be the hard way, huh?" The guy said through gritted teeth before kneeling down to Luke and grabbing him by his hair, bashing the back of his head against the hard concrete.

Luke groaned and clenched his eyes shut from the intense pain shooting through his skull.

He felt dizzy, as if the world was spinning around him. The last thing he remembered is the bag being ripped away from him, and footsteps fading away before everything blacked out.

-

"Luke? Hey, Luke, can you hear me?"

The words echoed in Luke's head. He groaned, feeling a dull ache in his brain. He rolled over, bringing a hand up and resting it on his forehead.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly. His eyes slowly fluttered open, settling on the figure in front of him.

"Wha- where am I? What's going on?" Luke slurred, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He recognized the person in front of him to be Max.

"I don't know," Max said. "We found you like this. I was hoping you could tell us."

"The guys," Luke said. "They took everything..."

"Don't worry about that, Luke. Let's get you out of here, yeah?" Max said slowly. "Do you think you can stand up?"

Luke nodded. He sat up, but immediately regretted it as his head spinned, making him see small black dots.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Luke sighed. "Just help me get up."

Max helped Luke to his feet, putting an arm around his waist for support.

"Let's get you out of here."


	9. Chapter 9

Michael walked down the gravel pathway, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boots. He climbed up the creaky, old wooden steps and stood in front of the door.

He knocked on the door, taking a step back and shoving his hands into his pockets.

The door opened, but only a few inches. Michael could see the chain lock, as well as a pair of blue eyes peeking out from behind the door.

The door was closed, and Michael could hear the chain being removed and seconds later, the door opened. There stood Luke, wearing a baggy white shirt along with some grey sweatpants and a pair of non-matching socks.

"Hello?" Luke frowned, giving Michael a questioning look.

"Hey," Michael casually said, leaning against the doorframe. "Mind if I come in?"

"Actually, yes, I do," Luke said, stepping in front of Michael to stop him from walking in.

Michael looked at Luke with playful eyes. "Why not? Got something to hide?"

"No," Luke scoffed. "I just don't want you here."

Michael put his hand on his heart, faking a hurt expression. "Ouch."

"Why are you here?" Luke asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay," Michael smiled.

"Okay..." Luke sounded unsure. He was beyond confused. A few days ago, Michael was furious at Luke, and now he was standing on his porch, trying to get into his house.

"Well? Are you?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Am I what?" Luke frowned.

"Oh my god," Michael facepalmed before he looked at Luke. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Luke said quickly. "Now leave."

Michael sighed. "Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?"

Luke stayed silent. Instead, he tried to shut the door but Michael stopped it with his foot. Luke sighed, opening the door again.

Michael leaned to Luke's left, peeking over the younger boy's shoulder.

The first thing Michael noticed was how bad the place looked. There were empty alcohol bottles standing around, and ashtrays overflowing with cigarette stumps. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, the carpets looked extremely dirty and old, and the furniture looked like it came straight out of a junkyard.

The second thing he noticed was a middle-aged man sleeping on the sofa. He wore a white vest, stained with some yellow-ish substance, and his washed out jeans sat low on his hips.

"Who's that?" Michael pointed to the man.

"My mom's boyfriend," Luke said, and by the tone of his voice, Michael assumed Luke didn't like the older man.

"Does he live with you guys?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, why does it matter?" Luke said defensively.

"Just asking," Michael said.

Luke rolled his eyes. "What else do you want? You said you were here to see if I'm okay, and I said I am, so why are you still here?"

That was one thing about Luke that amazed Michael. He wasn't afraid to tell people what he thinks, and he sure as hell wasn't afraid of confrontation. Michael had yet to decide if he liked that about Luke, or if he hated it.

"Let me in, and I'll tell you," Michael smirked.

"No," Luke deadpanned. "You'll just wake him up."

"So, what if he wakes up? Big whoop."

"He's a fucking asshole," Luke sighed. "Especially when he's wasted. Just leave."

"Okay, fine. If I can't come inside, then you're coming with me," Michael said confidently.

He took a hold of Luke's wrist, pulling him outside and shutting the door.

"C'mon," he said to Luke.

"What? No!" Luke whisper-yelled.

Michael shrugged. "Fine, if you won't come, then I'll have to drag you with me."

He got ahold of Luke's arm, dragging him to his truck despite Luke's protests.

"Let go of my arm, you prick," Luke hissed, struggling against Michael's tight grip.

"Get in, princess," Michael teased, opening the door for Luke and holding his hand out to the open door.

Luke huffed, finally giving up and getting in. He sat with his arms crossed and waited for Michael to walk around and get in as well.

When Michael was in the truck, Luke said, "Great, now my socks are all wet and soggy. Gross."

"Oh, boo hoo. Get over it," Michael said, but he had a smirk on his face.

"You know this counts as kidnapping, right?"

Michael laughed. "Okay, first off, you're not a kid-"

"I'm eighteen," Luke chipped in.

"Shut up," Michael said, before speaking again. "You're not a kid, and second, it does not," Michael said matter-of-factly.

"You know kidnapping doesn't mean you have to be a-"

"Shh," Michael held a finger to Luke's lips.

Luke shoved Michael's hand away from his face, glaring at the older boy.

"You're supposed to keep your hands on the steering wheel," Luke mumbled.

"I never keep both my hands on the wheel," Michael laughed. "Only goodie two-shoes keep both hands on the steering wheel. I'm a badass."

"You're not." Luke couldn't help but smile.

"I am," Michael argued. "I'm the baddest."

"Okay, whatever." Luke laughed softly. "Where are you even taking me?"

"To my apartment," Michael said nonchalantly. "We can, like, make pancakes while listening to Slipknot. That's totally badass."

Luke burst out laughing. What was it with Michael making him laugh and smile so much?

"Yeah, okay. We'll do that."


	10. Chapter 10

"Welcome to Casa de Clifford!" Michael announced, pushing the door of his apartment open and walking inside, with Luke behind him.

"It's a nice place you've got here," Luke told Michael.

"Thanks," Michael shrugged, smiling.

"How long have you been living here?" Luke asked.

"About a year, or so," Michael said as he walked to his fridge. "Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, water is fine," Luke said, sitting down on the brown leather sofa.

"Water?" Michael turned to look at the blond. "Boring. How about a beer?"

Luke stared at the can of beer Michael was holding up. "I guess a beer is fine."

Michael nodded, grabbing another beer and shutting the fridge, walking back to Luke and holding the beer out.

Luke took it, mumbling a thanks and opening the can.

"So," Michael said as he took a sip of his beer.  "What's up with that stepdad of yours, anyway?"

Luke's jaw clenched, "He's not my dad."

"I didn't say he's your dad," Michael said slowly, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well he's _nothing_ of me," Luke looked away from Michael. "Even if my mother decides to marry his fucked up ass, he will never be anything of me."

"Uhm, so, how are you feeling?" Michael asked, deciding to change the topic.

"I'm feeling better than yesterday," Luke nodded, nursing the can of beer in his hands. In all honesty, Luke hated the taste of beer. To him it tasted bitter, like what he'd imagine pee to taste like. It even looked like pee.

"Do you still wanna make those pancakes? Because this," he said, gesturing between the two of them. "Is kind of boring."

"Uh, yeah. I guess. I don't know how, though."

"Doesn't matter, I'll show you," Michael smirked, getting up from the couch and strutting to the kitchen. Luke did the same, but decided to leave his beer on the coffee table.

"Okay, here's a recipe that looks good," Michael said and handed his phone, which was displaying a website with a bunch of recipes, to Luke. "You read the ingredients and I'll get them."

Luke nodded, taking the phone and reading the list of things needed to make the pancakes.

Luke stood next to Michael while the older boy made the pancakes, since Luke refused to do it, claiming that he did not want to burn down the whole building.

The duo chatted while Michael flipped the pancakes over every few minutes, burning a few of them in the process.

When all the pancake batter was finally used, they sat down at the kitchen counter. Each of them had a plate in front of them which was stacked with pancakes, syrup dripping down the edges.

"Oh my god, this tastes so good," Luke said with a mouthful of food. "I can't remember when last I had one of these."

Michael watched Luke clean his whole plate in record time.

"Hungry much?" Michael teased.

Luke blushed, looking down at his empty plate. "No, I just really liked it."

Michael chuckled. "So, tell me something about yourself."

"There's not much to tell."

"There must be something," Michael argued. "Any hobbies? Favorite TV show? Favorite food?"

"I don't really have hobbies, I don't watch TV that much, and I just eat whatever is in the house," Luke replied, resting his head on his hand. "How about you?"

"Hmm," Michael pretended to think. "Let's see. My hobby is playing guitar, but I'm not very good at it, yet. My favorite TV show is The Walking Dead, and my favorite food is sushi."

"You play guitar? That's so awesome," Luke smiled. "Do you own a guitar?"

"I sure do. And no, I will not play anything for you."

"That's so cool," Luke said, his eyes bright. "I used to always play the guitars in my school's music rooms, back when I was still in school."

"You're not in school anymore? I thought you were eighteen."

"I am eighteen," Luke told him. "Dropped out last year 'cause my mom said she had better things to do with her money. By "better", she probably meant getting wasted every night, or blowing it all at the casino."

Michael frowned. What kind of a mother does something like that?

"She seriously said that?" Michael asked.

"Yup." Luke shrugged. "But it's fine. It's not like I particularly enjoyed school, anyway."

Michael smiled slightly. "Don't worry, I didn't like school either. It sucks."

"Yeah, totally."

-

It was dark outside when Michael's truck held still in front of Luke's house. Luke turned to Michael.

"Thanks for taking me home," he smiled slightly. His smile was replaced by a frown upon hearing yelling coming from inside his house.

He sighed, feeling his face get warm with embarrassment. "Sorry about that. Just ignore it-"

He stopped talking when he heard the sound of glass breaking, followed by more yelling. Luke felt like crying. Why did they have to do this when Michael was there?

Michael had a look of concern on his face. He looked at the blond, about to say something when Luke interrupted him.

"They do this all the time," he chuckled nervously. "It's no big deal. It sounds worse than it really is."

Michael clearly wasn't buying it. He looked at Luke with worried eyes. "D'you wanna come back to my place? You can crash on the couch, I really don't mind."

Luke smiled weakly. "It's alright. I'll be fine here."

Michael shook his head. "No, Luke. Please come back with me?"

Luke hesitated before nodding his head slowly. "Okay."

They headed back to Michael's apartment, neither of the two saying anything. Michael was the first to speak up as they walked through the door of the apartment.

"I'll get started on dinner," he smiled.

Luke nodded, still feeling absolutely humiliated that Michael had heard the fighting back at his house.

"Hey," Michael said, walking towards Luke. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Luke said quietly. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Just down the hall there, the first door."

Luke turned around and made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on the closed toilet seat.

_Don't cry._

Luke felt the first tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. _Stop_.

But he couldn't help himself as he let the tears that he had been holding in out. He rested his head in his hands, trying to keep his sobs as quiet as possible.

Why did his family have to be so fucked up? Why did they have to embarrass Luke like that in front of Michael?

After a few minutes, Luke finally felt okay again. He stood up and splashed his face with cold water, trying to get rid of the redness in his face.

When he exited the bathroom, Michael was standing in front of the stove. Upon closer inspection, Luke saw that Michael was making macaroni and cheese.

For the rest of the night, Michael and Luke talked and laughed, and Luke was thankful that Michael didn't say anything about his slightly reddened eyes, that he was almost 100% sure Michael had noticed.

When both of them were starting to get tired, Michael gave Luke some pillows and a nice fluffy blanket to sleep on the couch.

And for the first time in a long while, Luke fell asleep feeling comfortable and most importantly, safe.


End file.
